The Misplaced King
by LuminaCarina
Summary: Arthur was never going to drink again. Seriously. He wasn't going to get in a two feet radius of anything alcoholic. He was also never going to trust Merlin ever again. Well, at least he could mess with Morgana and make her life a living hell without feeling any guilt over it. Time Travel EDITED


**Okay, so I know it's a bit rushed, but it wouldn't leave my head and it has been driving me crazy.**

**Just so you know, I wrote it as if Gwen really did join Morgan. **

**Oh, yeah. Hm,hm. I do not own Merlin. Enjoy.**

Arthur was not pleased.

To say he was not pleased would be an understatement. He was angry, sulky and, above all, panicky. He had no idea how he was supposed to deal with this kind of a mess. Usually, he had someone there, next to him, forcing him to keep a cool head. Now, he was completely alone, and therefore, free to drown himself in his own failure.

Arthur dragged his feet as he paced around his bedroom. His old bedroom, he remembered. Kind of hard to forget really. He had spent half his life in it. But right now wasn't the time to take a trip down memory lane. He had problems to take care of. Well, only one problem, but it was such a big, ridiculous one it counted as several normal ones.

And it had started with such a stupid thing. He had been so devastated when he learnt of Gwen's betrayal that he drank himself into a stupor after she was taken to a cell. He didn't remember much, the alcohol took care of that, but he could fuzzily recall wishing he had never fallen for his beautiful, treacherous wife, and begging his friends to make it happen.

And now this. Somehow, and he had no idea how, he was taken to the past. As in, to a time that had already passed.

_Okay. Use your head Arthur. _He quickly put his clothes on and started playing with the hem of his shirt. So he had time traveled. From the look of his clothes, he was somewhere around ten years old. That at least gave him enough time to get over Gwen and start making changes. Morgan, for example. Also, he could try to influence his father not to create laws to restrict magic.

Another good thing was that he wasn't a king anymore. And wasn't that great. When he'd been ten the first time around his bigest wish had been to become king. And when he did become king, he still hadn't been happy. It wasn't that he'd wanted more, far from it really. He'd wanted less. He had found himself, between boring diplomatic dinners and dances with idiot ladys, wanting to throw his crown away. A king wishing to be a prince. He must've been losing his damn mind.

And wasn't that mind boggling. He was ten again. Only a child. A snot-nosed brat. He had chores and duties that were horribly boring compared to his old ones. Everything he said would be treated with an exasperated fondness in the best, and an angry remark in the worst case. He wasn't even allowed to train with a real sword!

Arthur fell into his bed with a pained groan. Dear God. Why did he always do these kinds of things? It wasn't like he didn't have enough problems as it was. Why did he always have to go looking for trouble? Why wasn't he happy with it simply finding him?

He dragged himself out of bed and straightened out his tunic. He would have to go to breakfast soon.

The misplaced king walked along the grand hallways that were still empty of the servants and wondered about his predicament. He took some comfort in knowing who was to be blamed. Because it certainly wasn't his fault! Everybody knew Arthur was reckless on a good day, and down-right dangerous on a bad one. So it was obviously Merlin's fault.

Arthur stopped and considered that stray thought. Yes, that was it. Merlin should've ignored him and did his magic to sober him up. Then he should have got Gwaine to kick his ass in sword-fighting, and the whole thing would have been forgotten. They had all been absolutely is-that-a-door-or-a-pretty-girl drunk, but those are just minor issues. Certainly nothing that would stop them from being awesome.

This, this _incident _wouldn't have happened and he wouldn't be a bloody brat again.

Arthur paused in front of the door of the dining hall, and took a deep breath before pushing them open. He almost had a heart attack when he saw his father's face.

And Morgana, his beautifully evil sister. Merlin's nemesis. The bitch who made it all happen. Oh how he would enjoy messing with her. What would it feel like, filling her bed and chambers with ants, snails and other creepy crawleys?

Yes, he decided. He was so going to run Merlin into the ground with chores the next time he sees him. _Or is it the first time?_


End file.
